Page 133 of Kane


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“Ahh, don’t need an earlobe. No plans to get pierced,” I say with a grin. “I’m good.”

“You are still bleeding.”

“It’ll clot. Not worth getting worked up over, honey. Barely feel it.”

“You were shot!”

I glance at her. “Babe, I’ve gotten hurt worse by a tree branch. Except the earlobe. Seriously, I’m good.”

She peers at me, eyes wide. “You came for me.”

I laugh. “Uh, yeah. You think I wouldn’t?”

“I was worried for you. I was worried you would be hurt rescuing me.”

I reach over and squeeze her thigh. “I appreciate that, sweetheart. But I’d go to any lengths to bring you home.”

She covers my hand with hers, then twists and looks at Rev and Kane. “Thank you, both of you.” She huffs, shakes her head. “To say thank you is not enough.”

Rev reaches forward and clasps her shoulder, squeezing and giving a little shake. “All good, Anj. Kane went in with me when Javi took Myka. Gotta have my boy’s back.”

Anjalee gapes at him. “Myka was abducted?”

Rev nods. “Reason I was hiding out in Sin—I’d gotten tangled up with a drug cartel and made an enemy of the boss’s son. He decided to get back at me by fucking with Myka.”

I laugh. “Yeah, that didn’t go well for him.”

Rev snickers. “Nah, it did not.”

“You were a fuckin’ one-man wrecking machine. That shit with the tactical shield? Jesus. Some John Wick shit, brother.” I shake my head, laughing. “Those poor fucks didn’t know what hit ‘em.”

“Tactical shield?” Zane asks. “This I gotta hear.”

I shrug and pull the hem of my shirt up and dab at my face and neck. “So, we knew there was a pretty good number of them. We knew where they were, and Rev knew how they worked, so him, me, and our guy Chance—who, by the way, is six-eight, three hundred pounds of solid muscle, and quick as a fuckin’ cat—got kitted out in body armor. Rev somehow got his hands on a tactical shield, and used that big bitch as a weapon. Fuckin’, what, eight, nine guys, armed? I think they got confused as to whether they wanted to kill you or not—I think your boy Javier wanted you for himself. Didn’t know what he was fuckin’ doin’, that’s for damn sure. You wrecked their shit and took six slugs to the vest in the process.”

Zane winces. “That shit doesnotfeel good.”

Rev chuckles. “It didn’t fuckin’ tickle, that’s for sure. Bruised ribs, giant fuckin’ bruises on my back that took a solid month to go away.” He shrugs. “Worth it.”

Anjalee looks at him, eyes wide. “You were shotsixtimes?”

“At close range with a .45.” He grins. “But that’s why you wear body armor. Takes that shit like a champ.”

“Where d’you find armor to fit a monster that size?” Zane asks. “Jesus.”

Rev laughs. “You don’t. It had a six-inch gap on each side.” He scrapes his hand over his hair.

“How’d he even make it in? My god, that’s a big boy.”

“Well, he hadn’t hit his full height when we joined the Marines,” Rev explains. “He was only six-six at that point, and we’d been living on the streets so he was a skinny little fucker back then...well, skinny for him, at least. He easily cleared the weight and body fat standards, and was right on the money for maximum height. But then after we were in, he grew two inches. And by then, he’d proven he was a hell of a soldier.” Rev shrugs.

Anjalee laughs. “Chance is a teddy bear. Kane said so yesterday.”

Rev snorts. “Yeah, he’s a teddy bear…ifhe likes you. He can bend horseshoes with his bare hands. Seen him do it.”

Zane shakes his head. “Still, a six-eight Special Forces operator. Fuck. Wouldn’t want to see that fucker coming at me from out of the dark.”

Rev laughs. “Yeah, he had that effect on people.” He snorts again. “Once, we’d taken this dude prisoner. We needed info—he knew where an Al-Qaeda nest was, and we were tasked with taking it out. Usual methods weren’t working, so X-O sent Chance in, told him to try and scare the guy into talking.”